Don’t Play This Game: Event 13: Fearful Dreams
Sleep doesn’t come easily anymore.
When it does, it comes wrong.
Last night, I dreamed I was drowning.
But not in water.
In blood.
The ocean was endless—thick, dark, suffocating. The air smelled of iron and rot. Every breath tasted like pennies and old wounds.
There was no land. No sky. Just a red-black world that dragged at my limbs and pulled me under, no matter how hard I kicked.
Sometimes I thought I saw things beneath the surface—shapes moving against the tides, brushing past my legs, slipping around me like sharks.
Every time I gasped for air, I swallowed more of it.
Every time I tried to scream, the blood filled my throat until I couldn’t even hear myself.
The worst part wasn’t the drowning.
It was the feeling that someone—something—was watching me struggle.
Smiling.
Patient.
Waiting for me to sink.
I woke up in a cold sweat, heart pounding so hard I thought it might tear through my ribs.
The guitar is still under the bed.
Still humming softly.
Still staining the air around it.
I can’t look at blood the same way anymore.
A paper cut feels like an open wound.
A nosebleed would feel like a death sentence.
Even ketchup on a plate looks wrong now.
The Entity didn’t have to leave scars on my body.
It carved them into my mind instead.
DON'T PLAY THIS GAME is a Solo TTRPG